


to live for one's self

by justlikeswitchblades



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two unshakeable constants in Midorima’s life—his hands, and his pride.</p>
<p>A third element, threatening the latter of the two, consists of the tears burning in his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to live for one's self

If he stays passive, he can pretend that this isn’t even happening. 

Kagami is kissing him, touching him, and all the while he is still, unmoving, receiving, never giving back. This way, he figures, he can still head home with his head held high. He can look his parents in the eye across the dinner table without flinching, and pretend nothing has changed.

But Kagami coaxes it out of him with rough hands and chapped lips, a laugh so loud and infectious that he has to grit his teeth when it rings in his ear. He’s auburn hair and rich bronze skin tanned in the depths of summer, teeth flashing white in a grin whenever he leans in to kiss him, fingers encircling his wrists and pressing warmth into his pale skin. 

He makes his heart feel so heavy, like the pull of gravity is yanking it down to the floor, but also so light, like he’ll float away with one stray step. Like he’s choking on too big of a breath, like he’s drowning in midair. 

It was only a matter of time until he would break.

It comes when they’re in the shower together, in one of the tiny locker room stalls, Midorima’s back pressed up against the wall, keeping him solid and steady. It’s the kind that runs on a timer, and Kagami has to twist away to punch the button for another five minutes. The water that had faded to a trickle rains down over them with new life.

Midorima takes a breath. It’s ragged, not quite enough to fill his lungs, not quite right. A sob shakes his chest, a pitiful noise comes out, and he claps a hand over his mouth, afraid of what else will escape. The tears are burning in his eyes, and he knows he won’t be able to blink them back this time.

“Hey,” Kagami’s brow wrinkles, his face close to Midorima’s, fingers ghosting at his waist, “Hey, are you okay?” 

His vision is blurred by his tears, but Kagami’s face still the only thing comes into focus—of course it does.

Of course it does—he’d be a fool to turn away from him now.

It’s a question he doesn’t quite know the answer to, a question that can’t be answered with a yes or a no. He manages a pathetic shrug, rasping out a breath through his fingers, and Kagami knows not to press further. He takes Midorima’s hands in his own, prying them away from his mouth one finger at a time, until he can bump his forehead against Midorima’s in a rough nuzzle, his nose pressing into his cheek. It takes Midorima a tremendous effort to lift his arms, letting them hang limp around Kagami’s neck. He hangs his head, the rushing water nearly masking his shuddering breaths. Kagami’s hands take a hold of his waist, squeezing so tight and fierce it almost hurts.

Almost, but not quite.

***

At six-foot-five, there are rarely any instances where Midorima feels small, if any at all. But even if he knows he’s safe, Kagami’s apartment still feels so open, and he hugs himself, vulnerable, eyes downcast as Kagami makes them dinner.

The curry and the rice sit warm and heavy in his stomach, but they fill him up, making him feel whole again, and he lets himself sink back into Kagami’s mattress with a sigh, his chest feeling lighter for the first time in months. He’s dressed in a black t-shirt and boxers that, smell faintly of flowery detergent. Kagami’s clothes should feel foreign, he thinks, but they’re the same size, save for a little looseness in the shoulders, and they’re soft, too.. His eyes go to the eggshell ceiling, and then the doorway, watching Kagami as he enters the room. He plops down unceremoniously next to him, and their eyes meet again as Kagami lifts a hand, fingers trailing along his jawline.

“What’re you gonna do?” He asks, and Midorima stiffens at first, thinking it’s an accusation. But it’s concern that’s written all over Kagami’s features—subtlety was never a strength of his—and Midorima exhales through his nose, his frown softening at the corners of his lips. He opens his mouth, then closes it, giving a shake of his head.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Kagami quickly continues, “Not like, do _nothing_ , but. You don’t have to tell anyone. We don’t have to tell anyone. This can just be us. Like it always has been.”

He leans in to kiss him then, and Midorima’s lips nearly twitch into a smirk. _This_ is why he chose Kagami—he’s impulsive and rash, where Midorima values patience. They run into conflict sometimes because of it, but they both hate indecision more than anything else. He pulls back out of his reach, but before the confusion has the chance to fully form, he takes Kagami’s face in his hands, and he leans in, kissing him long and slow until he needs to take another breath. 

“You’re wrong, Taiga,” He starts after a moment, letting their fingers link together, “About it being like before. Last time, shame kept my hands tied. This time, I can choose to keep you to myself.”

Midorima watches as Kagami offers him a smile—brief, yet sad. He traces over a line in his palm with the tip of his thumb, slowly, weighing his words.

“Do you want to talk your teammates about us? Do you want them to know?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust them, it’s just…” Kagami trails off, unsure how to finish, his chest falling with a small sigh. Midorima is quiet for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mulls over his thoughts.

“I know this is going to sound embarrassingly ironic, considering how I’ve acted” Midorima begins, adjusting his glasses, “But this is still real, no matter how many people know whether it’s happening. It’s real, and it’s happening, no matter what they might think of it.”

Kagami nods along with his words, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. “Some guys...some guys say some pretty nasty stuff on the court.”

Midorima bites his lip. He can’t dispute that.

“And it pisses me the hell off, because if I react to it, they’ll—they’ll think I’m—”

“It fucking hurts,” Kagami huffs out a breath, his eyebrows drawing together, “I have to deny myself to keep myself safe, but then it feels like I’m _lying_ , and there’s just...no way out.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation...at least you know you’re not alone.”

“That’s true,” Kagami concedes with a smile, and it looks a little more genuine now, “It stings, but it hurts less knowing I still have you.”

“Yes,” Midorima smiles back, “Even if it’s sappy, I feel the same way, too.”

“Oh?” Kagami raises an eyebrow, a little mischief sneaking into his grin, “I must be rubbing off on you.”

Midorima rolls his eyes, “Much to my chagrin, dayo.” 

He still smiles as he leans in to kiss Kagami one more time.


End file.
